you’ll never guess whats happened to me. ive been touched by the hand of god. or by the hand of someone very close to him anyway.. among other parts..Ive had a jehovah’s witness. I have. he turned up on my doorstep at some ungodly hour in the morning.. before lunchtime anyway. did I accept the love of jesus? I told him, ive spent all night accepting the love of jerome and flynn, and im knackered, but ask me again tomorrow.he went off on a right one, hell, fire, brimstones, the lot. saying I was going to burn down below for my sins. I said, ive had that and you can get a cream for it. he wasn’t best impressed. went off on the deadly sins, shouting covetness and pride and.. jealousness.. and whatever the others are. her next door was pressed up against her window so hard she almost fell through it. anyway, he was off on one, blathering about eternal damnation and all that malarkey. sounded a lot like my parents actually, and theyre fucking ignorant bastards. but he had a nice arse, wasted in those baggy clothes.. so I asked him, has he ever tried it? cos you should try everything once, that’s what dane said about skydiving anyway, that’s how I ended up jumping out of a plane with a rucksack on my back, strapped to a hunky australian, hung like a donkey he was.. but that’s another story. so I asked liam – that’s your jehovah’s witness – in for a coffee and a spot of theological debate.

twenty minutes later.. he was starting to see my point. so I showed it to him a few more times, and by the end of it he’d completely changed his tune. turning the other cheek and that.. went off on his way with his little briefcase, and his robes on all back to front. you should have seen the face on her next door. he was quite good actually, for a bible basher. ive never had a holy man before.. I mean, I had father james when I was thirteen, but he wasn’t exactly holy.. I don’t know what all the fuss about gay priests is.. theyre all screaming queens, feeling up the altar boys in the vestry..

anyway, im a changed man. I feel closer to god. its like a spiritual epiphany. I always thought id like to go into the monastery. all those boys together.. ive had a calling.

when I die I want hordes of them wailing in the streets, laying carpets of flowers over canal street, lighting candles for me in all the windows. I want a minute’s silence in Babylon. commemorative t-shirts and mugs and life-size cutouts. I want my name painted across the sky in smoke by pink aeroplanes. they’ll be chanting my name in chorus: alexander! alexander! alexander!

phil’s do was a bit grim. I tell you, I almost didn’t make it. if it hadn’t been for shirley, id still be stood at the side of the road, flashing at truckers.. and flashing my lights..shirley rescued me. ex-bodyguard, on-the-run, I think she’s a man. she’s fab. anyway, its only thanks to her I made it. well, you cant have a party without me, can you? not that it was much of a do. I felt sorry for phil really, must be dead depressing, the place was like a wake.. I never really knew him actually. that’s the worst part for him, he died before he had the chance to have me in his life.. oh the waste..

can you imagine? dying like that. could happen to any of us I suppose, could have been me. ooh, I could be dead! imagine.. canal street’d come to a standstill. it’d just be one fat bloke and stuart alan jones, shagging in a doorway. and vince waiting round the corner in the jeep. speaking of vince, wasn’t he fab? d.i.s.c.o. course id want something a bit classier for my final farewell. dancing queen maybe. or the weather girls.

still, there was plenty of free booze, nothing like a roomful of crying drunken poofs to get a party going. I was on jill dandos all night. a shot of everything, straight to your head. no wonder I feel like death defrosted this morning. oh god, I bet im dying. wouldn’t that be typical, and its all the wrong time for it, spring funerals are nice, winters too gloomy.. and I havent even had a sunbed, and my roots need doing.. vince, if I die, promise you’ll get me to nicky clarke before you lay me to rest.. I want to look my best for the millions of mourning boys..I must go and lie down.. I just need something to warm me up.. any volunteers ;)

ooh, and vince, who was that hunk you were drooling at over the buffet? does he know dorothy? is he single? he liked you..*wink, wink* go on, bag him and shag him blind.. do it for me, its my last wish.. and find out if he’s got a brother.. I like them down under….. ;)